


Taste My Breath (Do You Like It?)

by orphan_account



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alana as a regular customer, Angst, Connor as an unwilling uber driver, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Zoe as a waitress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I didn't know you worked here," Alana says, surprised.Zoe blinks. "Uh, well, I mean." She blinks again, and sets down her coffee put beside Alana's notes. "Everyone works somewhere. Sabrina Patel works at Kmart. Evan Hansen works at Pottery Barn. I work here."





	Taste My Breath (Do You Like It?)

She knows Zoe. Of course she knows Zoe. She knows everybody.

That doesn't mean that Zoe knows _her_ , but it means that there's a vague recognition when Zoe stops beside Alana's table and asks if she wants a refill on coffee.

"I didn't know you worked here," Alana says, surprised, instead of answering.

Zoe blinks. "Uh, well, I mean." She blinks again, and sets down her coffee put beside Alana's notes. "Everyone works somewhere. Sabrina Patel works at Kmart. Evan Hansen works at Pottery Barn. I work here." She shrugs.

Alana adjusts her glasses. "I suppose." She says. Zoe peers at her. Her hair is pinned back by little clips shaped like stars.

"It's Alana, right?" She asks, and Alana nods.

"Alana Beck."

"Well, Alana Beck," Zoe says, and puts on a fake smile, picking up her coffee pot, again, "do you want a refill on coffee?"

*

Alana starts to study at Á La Mode more often.

*

The heating is broken and Alana is trying to get her maths done, but it's too damn cold. Someone with vandalised converse stops beside her table. There are blue and black stars scribbled all over the toes and the lining. Alana looks up and finds Zoe, all bundled up in a winter jacket looking down at Alana with a strange look on her face.

"We're closing up for the day," she says. "Boss's orders."

"Oh," Alana replies. "Sorry, hang on." She checks the time and finds, in dismay, that the next bus is thirty two minutes away. If she's getting kicked out now, it does not bode well for her.

"You okay?" Zoe asks, her starry feet shuffling. Her jeans look like they used to fit perfectly but the elastic in the material has been worn enough that they're baggy.

"Yeah, I just," Alana gathers her notes and binder and it's them all in her backpack, "I take the bus home, and it's half an hour away."

"Oh," Zoe says, and twiddles her thumbs. "Well, I could drive you."

"Really?" She can't help but ask, swinging the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yeah, it's no big deal." She shrugs and gestures for Alana to exit the booth. "It'll be like I'm your Uber driver."

And she drives Alana home. She lets Alana pick the music. She drops her off as far up her driveway as she can, as its started to snow and she says she wants Alana dry and warm when she arrives.

And then she drives off and Alana goes inside to do her maths and not think about the pretty waitress who drove her home.

*

"Excuse me for asking this," Alana says, as Zoe's passing with a tray of dirty dishes. She stops and turns to look at her.

"What?" She asks, cocking her head and setting her tray down on Alana's table.

"Your family's rich." Alana states and Zoe nods, rolling her eyes. "Why are you working here?"

"Punishment, if you'd believe." She replies and sits down across from Alana.

"Hm?" She quips, waving a pen in a go on kind of movement.

"Mom didn't like my grades so she made me quit jazz band and get a job. I do homework here, on slow days." Zoe sighs and leans her head against a hand, elbow on the table. She laughs, meeting Alana's gaze as she adds, "A bit counterintuitive, if you ask me."

"I see." Alana hums, in agreement.

There's a moment of pause where Alana thinks Zoe's just going to get up and leave, and then she cocks her head and asks, "Are you taking the bus home?"

"Probably." Alana replies, shrugging and inwardly dreading the ride.

"My shift ends about fifteen minutes after you leave." Zoe informs her, a bit tentatively, like she's afraid Alana will scoff and wave her away. "If you stay a bit longer I could probably drive you home."

"You don't have to do that-" Alana begins, but stops when she sees Zoe's face fall.

"But it was so fun, last time." She looks a bit younger than before. Alana has to remind herself that they're currently the same age. She looks down at her notes, then up at the clock above the counter.

"I mean," she says, slowly, "I don't see why I can't." And it's not because Zoe looked sad, no, it's because Alana actually enjoys her company. Alana actually likes Zoe, and likes spending time around her.

Zoe grins and picks up her tray of dirty dishes. "Great. See you in half an hour."

*

It becomes routine.

Alana rides with Zoe to Á La Mode from school and studies in her booth until Zoe's shift finishes up and they drive back to Alana's house.

Zoe's nice, and pretty, and can sing all of Alana's favourite songs well. Alana really likes her. She wants to spend more time with her than just brief interludes in Zoe's car and at the counter. She wants lunch together, and locker talks, and passing notes in class, and maybe Zoe, sitting on her bed, writing notes, and glancing up at Alana, occasionally to grin, just because she likes her.

Alana likes her.

*

Zoe doesn't pick her up. Zoe's car is not in the parking lot. Alana takes the bus.

Zoe would have texted her if she were sick. Or, Alana likes to believe she would. She's working behind the counter with a scowl on her face when Alana arrives. She looks up and suddenly looks very guilty when she sees Alana.

"I'm sorry," she says, leaning, heavily, on the counter. "I would have texted you but I got my phone taken off me."

"Why?" Alana asks, resisting the urge to reach over and out her hand on top of Zoe's. "What's going on?"

"Corporal punishment." Zoe informs her. "My teachers aren't happy with my work, so my moms solution is more shifts, no phone, no car." Alana frowns. Zoe's mother's methods are not exactly thought out, it seems.

"How are you getting home?" She asks, and Zoe rolls her eyes.

"My brother's been drafted to come and pick me up." She admits, looking annoyed.

Alana nods to herself, and smiles at Zoe. "I won't intrude on that-"

"No, no, don't even worry about it." Zoe interrupts, waving a hand and giving the ceiling an exasperated smile. "He's just a dickhead, but he'll get you where you need to go."

"You sure you're the uber driver of the family?" Alana inquires and Zoe laughs.

When her brother turns up to drive Zoe home, he grunts as he sees Alana climb into the backseat. Zoe says something scathing and Alana murmurs her address.

Zoe grabs her wrist when they're parked in Alana's driveway. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," Alana agrees, and Zoe grins.

*

Zoe ends up getting off at Alana's stop, more often than not, after her shift. Alana doesn't think her brother cares all that much, as all they do is study, but his harsh looks do soften, until he's asking them, quietly, what music they want on for their short ride. Zoe accuses him of liking being their personal uber driver, and he rolls his eyes, turning on Wonderwall, that they find, very quickly, is on repeat.

Connor's a little spiteful, that way, but Alana doesn't mind. Zoe apologises profusely for his behaviour and Alana is left wondering _what behaviour_?

*

Alana would love to say it was an accident or something. The house was empty - her parents at work, Connor over at Evan's - and she'd just leaned across the miles of bed sheet between them and kissed Zoe. And instead of rearing back and acting disgusted, Zoe had cupped her cheek and kissed her back.

They traded kisses and soft touches and caresses, ending up with their shirts off, Alana's jeans unzipped and Zoe's shorts unbuttoned, lying, sideways, on the bed, until Zoe had to go home. Alana hadn't known Zoe wore bras that went down to her midriff in lacy material. Alana hadn't known Zoe had constellations worth of freckles, just on her ribs. Alana hadn't known that if she ran a finger up the inside of her thigh and kissed the edge of her jaw at the same time, Zoe would gasp and move closer.

They don't talk about it, don't even trade looks about it. It's like it never happened. Alana maybe dreams about it, maybe thinks about it when it's dark and the world is asleep around her, a moment kept only for herself.

But they don't say anything.

Zoe sleeps over one night when her mother has made home life particularly hard and she can't be there. Alana ends up being the little spoon, with Zoe's arms wrapped around her ribs, her nose at the nape of her neck. Alana can't sleep while she's there. She can't help remembering the way Zoe had shuddered when Alana had kissed down her torso until she was crouched between Zoe's knees. She can't help but remember the flutter in her chest when she ghosted her fingers over the skin above the waistband of her shorts, her lips over her thighs.

Zoe doesn't ask why Alana sleeps on the floor that night. She just asks if she kicked her off the bed, and then makes waffles for them.

*

It comes to a head on a night when they're studying. They're doing reading for English and Alana can't stop glancing up at her. Zoe catches her eyes over the top of her book. She asks if Alana needs something. Alana puts her book to the side, leans forward, and kisses Zoe, pushing her book down to her lap.

She can't stop herself; the memory of the sparkle in her eyes when Alana lay her down after peeling off her shirt and tossing it on the floor overtakes her. She's dressed similarly, now.

This time, it's Zoe who lays Alana down. She parts Alana's knees and lets them rest on the jut of her hips, pressing her sternum directly between Alana's thighs as she leans down to kiss her. She holds Alana's wrists in her hands, at either side of Alana's head on the bed. She's so in control, it's hard for Alana to relinquish anything else, to hand over the reins, and surrender completely. She would give Zoe her life if that was a choice she was able to make, and not just because Zoe is tracing her fingertips up the inside of her thigh from the inside of her knee. Alana shivers. No. Because she trusts her, more than she'll probably trust anyone else.

Zoe kisses her, gently, and rolls her hips into Alana's, deliberately causing her to buck in response. She grins against Alana's slack mouth. Alana always wondered how one might crawl into bed with someone. Was it the result of too many drinks and the last good looking someone at the bar during last call? Was it the exhaustion that comes with any other day, and your chosen partner for the night? Alana finds a third option, being namely the tenderness that makes something like this slow. If it's slow it's a crawl, and Alana is willing to follow Zoe anywhere.

"What do you need from me?" Zoe murmurs as she strays from Alana's mouth, kissing her dimples and the spot beneath her ear and her neck.

"Touch me, properly, please." Alana murmurs, back, hands curling to fists where they're still pinned.

"Where?" The word reverberates against the skin at her jaw.

"Anywhere." She says, trying to focus as Zoe grinds forward with purpose. "Just touch me." The hands around her wrists release and Zoe is pushing Alana's shirt up her stomach, ceasing her hip movements and leaving Alana disoriented and colder. Her fingers are running along the underwire of Alana's bra, her shirt is pushed up to her collarbone. She wishes she'd worn a nicer bra.

Alana pushes against Zoe's shoulder so she can sit up and properly remove her shirt. "Take off your shorts, too," Zoe prompts, and Alana obeys, because she trusts her. She's still wearing shoes and socks, but Zoe doesn't seem to care. She's cupping the back of Alana's knees and running her lips along the skin of her belly and hips, above where her knickers cut off into elastic. Alana's heart beats a bit faster. Zoe's index fingers hook at the top of her knickers and she looks up at Alana. "Is this okay?"

"Yes. Please, just-" Zoe's already pulling them down so Alana twists and raises her feet to help her, momentarily unashamed as she focuses on her task. When her knees are spread once again she feels nervous, but Zoe doesn't stare. There's no preamble. Zoe's hands are cupping her ass, and her knees are hooked over Zoe's shoulders, and Zoe's mouth is hot and wet against her cunt.

Alana almost cries out but she holds it back, one hand against her mouth, the other hovering over the back of Zoe's hair. Her tongue runs up the slit between her lips and briefly applies pressure to her clit before returning to its task. It feels so much better than just shoving her fingers down her pants and rubbing until it feels good.

It feels incredible.

Alana feels Zoe's hand curl around the one hovering over her hair and press it down. She curls her fingers into it when Zoe's tongue presses into her cunt, her other hand ending up between her teeth. She can't help rocking her hips into Zoe's attentive mouth, moaning softly. She relents on her hand enough to gasp out, "Zoe, oh god, please."

Zoe pulls away and Alana honestly nearly swoons at the sight of her shiny chin and mouth. "What do you need from me?"

"Your mouth and your fingers, please." Alana finds herself begging, and doesn't find enough shame in her to even blush. Zoe smiles.

"Touch yourself." She prompts before diving back in and applying suction to Alana's clit. Alana makes a louder sound, and tenses until Zoe's satisfied with her work. Alana moves in a dazed way, trying to discern how to touch herself. Eventually she just unclamps her bra and throws it on the floor. Upon hearing the thump that accompanies her bra hitting the floor, Zoe looks up and seems to become mesmerised by what she sees.

She travels up Alana's body enough to gently curve her hand around the bottom of Alana's right breast, the thumb carefully running up the smooth skin until it presses against her nipple. Zoe leans down and takes the other one into her mouth, while at the same time inserting her index finger into Alana's cunt and pressing her accompanying thumb, without mercy, against her clit. She rolls it as she pumps her finger and runs her tongue over her nipple, and Alana feels herself grow hot as she makes progressively louder and louder sounds.

"Please, oh god, please, it's so good, so good," she gasps and moans, still running a hand in Zoe's hair, the other scrunching in the bed sheet by her head. "Make me come, make it-" A second finger pushes in and Alana cries out, arching against Zoe's mouth which has not let up on her breast. She seems to laugh against it, pressing harder against her clit.

Her other hand is massaging and caressing her breast, all the while ghosting fingertips over the nipple, a tease, and Alana feels her orgasm rushing towards her. "I'm coming, don't stop, please," she says, almost a sob, and Zoe attacks everything with what she's got, adding a third finger to her cunt, sucking her nipple with teeth around the edges and Alana sobs as she comes. She clenches around Zoe's fingers and arches her back, pushing her breast up against her face.

But Zoe does not stop with her fingers, continuing to pump them, mercilessly, into Alana's cunt, and rolling her clit hard. She releases her breast and adds her mouth to Alana's cunt, licking at the unattended skin and taking over for her thumb at her clit, and the next thing Alana knows she's coming again, and there are tears in her eyes. Zoe finally pulls away after this and Alana has time to recover, breathing raggedly, sweating all over, lying in the afterglow of her double orgasm. Zoe looks impressed with her work.

"Let me-" Alana mumbles, reaching for her, and Zoe lets her pull her down, on top of her. Alana tastes something heady and a bit sour on her tongue and doesn't even care when she kisses her. There's no preamble in the way she shoves her hand into Zoe's open shorts and finds her clit immediately.

Zoe hides her face in Alana's neck and bucks against her hand. She doesn't take long to come either of the two times Alana squeezes orgasms out of her, obviously riled up from the treatment she gave Alana's body.

And they don't talk about it. Because they're not good at talking about things, so why should this be different? They don't talk about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Breathe Into Me - Marian Hill


End file.
